Thinking Of You
by chimericaldreams
Summary: The pictures seem to serve just as a burning reminder that she’s not there. Brooke, on Mother's Day, is missing Sam and not coping well. Sam is beginning to question the choice she made. A cute little fluffy one shot. R&R!


**Disclaimer: **One Tree Hill does not belong to me. You hear me? It's not my fault Sam's gone.

**Author's Note:** Song is _Mama by the Spice Girls. _Hope you all like this, I'm so sad Sam's gone and I hope they bring Ashley Rickards back next season. I'm having trouble with Slowly Crumbling and hope it'll be updated soon for any of you who read that fic. It's a mix of no time and a busy schedule. Please leave your feedback for this cute little piece of fluff, Enjoy!

**Setting: **May 2009.

_She used to be my only enemy and never let me be free  
Catching me in places that I knew I shouldn't be  
Every other day I crossed the line I didn't mean to be so bad  
I never thought you would become the friend I never had_

There is a white picket fence lined with a rainbow pattern of flowers. Cute little knick-knacks dot the interior of the home, 'precious moments' staring intently at her as if challenging her to feel more fragile than they were.

But, as Sam is learning, life could not be defined just by possessions.

_Back then I didn't know why  
Why you were misunderstood  
So now I see through your eyes  
All that you did was love_

The pictures seem to serve just as a burning reminder that she's not there.

Brooke tries not to let it interfere with her day. Had she still be living here, she tells herself, it wouldn't have made a difference. Sam would have just gone through the rounds of the day eating, laying around, talking to Brooke some. She wouldn't have done anything out of the ordinary. Or would she have? It's those nagging words that keep Brooke's mind at bay. _'You'll always be my first mom.'_

She thinks of Sam now with the same grief as Angie. A child that was hers and is now gone. Once you're a mother, can anything really take that away? Does it hurt more knowing that Sam's out there just out of arms reach? It does.

It's making Brooke crazy, because this would have been her first Mother's Day.

And God, does she love Sam.

Peyton has framed the picture from her baby shower for Brooke and it's sitting so comfortably on the nightstand next to her bed, those new beautiful eyes staring at her every morning. It's only a picture, but for all she has Brooke convinces herself that for now it's enough.

Seven days. One week. That's the amount of time since Sam left, if even that. Brooke hardly knows as the days have been moving in slow motion. Painstakingly quiet and slow. But it's like walking on a treadmill, she can only go forward no matter how much she would like to turn around and walk the other way.

Haley and Peyton both stop by at different times. They hold steady conversations and Brooke trains herself to follow them with her eyes, letting them pay attention so her brain doesn't have to. Both girls can read the obvious pain that Brooke hasn't bothered to mask anymore. But they don't ask how she is. Maybe they are afraid she will cry. Maybe she will.

Pretend it's okay and it will be, sometimes denial is the only reasonable option.

A few months ago everything had been blossoming, each brand new day offering new adventures for Brooke. She had a doting boyfriend, a daughter who was warming up to her a little more with the passing of every moment. Unlike the rest of her life, Brooke hadn't been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But now Julian is in L.A. and Sam is gone.

There is nothing.

Brooke has the business, she has Victoria and she has friends with a platter of opportunities that just never seem to be available. She is back at square one, wondering if all of this, Sam and Julian, has just been a mirage.

So as a Mother's Day treat she orders pizza. She turns on a radio station with all the music Sam loves. She reads the copy of the essay Sam has written and finds herself absorbed in the past.

If she could, Brooke would never come back to reality.

_Mama I love you, Mama I care,  
Mama I love you, Mama my friend,  
You're my friend_

Sam doesn't do anything for Rebecca, she supposes a person who walks in to her life fifteen years later should have to earn the position of mother before it will be bestowed upon her.

Rebecca is at work; Sam wonders if she's even remembered what the day was supposed to mean, having never been a mother before.

The hardest part of living with Rebecca has been the fact that she's still in Tree Hill. And she doesn't associate this town with the woman that gave her up, she thinks only of the one who took her in. Thank God Haley doesn't still teach at Tree Hill, Sam tells herself, because that would have made the transition that much harder.

Still, it hasn't been easy.

On Wednesday she bumped right into Peyton at the diner. She'd helped the woman gather the things that had splattered to the floor, apologizing profusely until she'd realized who she was talking to. And then, just like that, she'd clammed up as if the two were strangers. As if they'd never once been linked.

It's not that Sam doesn't like Rebecca. She does, and that's the problem. There are endearing qualities that highlight her biological mother, little things that she'd wished for constantly as a little girl but had always been latent. This creates the dilemma: she's the fantasy that had always been in the back of Sam's mind, but Brooke is her saving grace. She is the one that, no questions asked, had been there.

To Sam, this is kind of like putting blocks on either side of the scale and watching, waiting for one side to tip.

Brooke is neurotic, she's overbearing and passionate and so generous that Sam had always felt guilty, like she is more than a person deserves. She is the first person Sam trusted. She is the definition of the perfect mother.

Rebecca understands the drawbacks in Sam's choice to stay with her and tries to be empathetic, suggesting Sam take a trip back to her former home. Have a conversation with Brooke. Hug her. Tell her she's missed.

Sam's eyes water just considering this. Keeping her distance is a way of separating herself from her emotions; she hates crying and the way it drains her body entirely. She is sure the minute their eyes meet the tears will fall. And who's to say that once she goes back, she'll be able to come back to her new home? Who's to stay she won't want to stay with Brooke? Because her stomach does flips when considering it.

But then, maybe Rebecca has known this on some level all along.

_I didn't want to hear it then but I'm not ashamed to say it now  
Every little thing you said and did was right for me  
I had a lot of to think about, about the way I used to be_  
_Never had a sense of my responsibility_

Brooke has the TV on but she's just staring past it.

She's not thinking, she's not even blinking, just staring as if somewhere off in the distance, she sees Sam.

All week she's done her best to appear whole, as if this situation hasn't beaten her down. But deep down she's been battered to a point of breaking, as if she's just barely being held together by scotch tape that's about to lose hold.

Peyton doesn't knock, she just comes in, so accustomed to barging in on Brooke's life that she does not think twice anymore. Brooke doesn't mind, because she even though she won't admit it aloud has been desperately craving company and wouldn't have had the strength to answer the door herself.

"Oh, Brooke."

At first glance, it's evident to Peyton that things have only worsened. She silently kicks herself for willingly leaving earlier when it should have been blatantly obvious how much she was needed.

Being the rock her friend has been for her on so many occasions, she sits beside her on the couch and gradually Brooke settles into her arms. It's awkward at best because neither of them says anything; there are no words to express the way she feels. "It's okay to let go," Peyton whispers.

So, little by little, Brooke does. And it's so relieving to finally give herself to her emotions and let them control her. She sobs into Peyton's shoulder. "I miss her so much, Peyton." It's like a river of tears and if she's lucky maybe it'll just drown her. Peyton, as promised, holds her tight. "I should have never let her leave."

_Back then I didn't know why,  
why you were misunderstood,  
So now I see through your eyes,  
all that you did was love_

A note would probably make sense.

She tries to curl her hands around the pen and form words to explain what she was doing. But she is afraid of lying. Of saying she is coming back when she might really not be able to. Of saying she loves Rebecca when she hasn't mustered up the courage to love someone besides Brooke.

So she stuffs her phone into her pocket and leaves the house with nothing, because then maybe she won't be tempted to stay. The first few steps down the porch steps are hesitant, but suddenly she finds her rhythm and lets herself be led, like a puppy dog, back home.

_Mama I love you, Mama I care,  
Mama I love you, Mama my friend,  
You're my friend ,you're my friend_

Making a severe attempt at comfort, Peyton calls Haley. Haley invites Nathan and Jamie. Nathan let sLucas in on the deal. Soon Brooke's house is bustling with activity, but from where she sits at the counter it just feels like she's stuck, moving forward but with an inability to mix in with her friends. That treadmill's a real bitch.

She smiles a few times, carries on discussions, lets Haley send her all the worried glances she can manage.

But it's just not working.

Then, when it's late and Brooke's nearly ready to throw in the towel and send them all home, there's a knock. Everyone stops and looks Brooke's way, expecting her to make the first move. She sighs, her mind running through the possibilities of who could be on the other side. Victoria, probably, or some door-to-door salesman. She prepares herself.

And when the door swings open and Sam's standing there shyly, she blinks once and then again to be sure the girl is really there, not some cruel figment of her imagination.

Sam for the first time notices that Brooke is not alone, she sees the remnants of her past watching her, lingering in the position they were. It's as if her entrance has everybody frozen in time. It's up to her to make that first move.

"I…I…can I come in?"

Brooke stands aside and Sam keeps her eyes to the floor as she walks in. Even Jamie, the usual silence-breaker stands silent. The tension is so palpable Sam thinks she may choke on it.

As she expects, she can't get more than a word out before her eyes are welling up, before a lump is caught in her throat. "It didn't seem right not to be here," she admits, not looking at Brooke yet. "Maybe I wasn't ready for all of this, maybe there was something I didn't consider when I went to live with—" she quickly cuts herself off. _"Her."_

Brooke is overwhelmed and tries unsuccessfully to conceal this. "What's that?"

Swallowing, Sam launches herself into Brooke's arms, an apology for leaving and an act of love rolled into one. "You."


End file.
